Summer evenings

The Shoemaker's Daughter. A memoir of days, both past and present, by Rhonda Mason.

Summer evenings.

Patio doors wide open.

Eating dinner in bright daylight.

Icy cold ginger beer.

Boys in shorts and singlets.

Rick in pants and a singlet.

Myself in shorts and a tank top.

Flowers on the windowsill.

Golden haze in our lounge room.

Yoghurt for dessert.

Reading books in the family room.

Cicadas singing in the background.

Going upstairs while it’s still bright.

Opening all the windows.

Warm breeze wafting through the bedrooms.

Boys running up and down the corridors.

Boys shrieking with laughter.

Clothes down the laundry chute.

Two boys in the bathtub. Two boys in the shower.

Chaos.

Fun.

Chaos.

Hilarity.

Puddles on the floor.

Big fluffy towels.

Boys getting dried.

Boys getting dressed.

Boys playing with blocks.

Books being read.

Clothes being sorted.

Turning lights off.

Twilight seeping through the blinds.

Saying goodnights.

Endless hugs and kisses.

Bedtime songs.

Bible stories.

Prayers.

Bottle of milk for Bear.

Final kisses.

Closing doors.

Quiet whispers.

Cicadas still singing.

Summer evenings.

  • Kathy said:

    Simple but very effective I can see how your evening panned out. Regards Kathy A, Brisbane

    • Rhonda Mason said:

      Thanks for reading, Kathy.
      Ronnie xo

  • Heike said:

    Dear Ronnie,
    I love fragments like this - it's poetry in the everyday life.

    • Rhonda Mason said:

      "Everyday poetry." I like that.
      Ronnie xo